Change
by MrsDarcy14
Summary: One shot. When Arty gets stuck in the Pota-Potty, he hopes that things will finally change. Lame summary, but read! Rates T for language.


"Help!"

I was stuck in the porta-potty, in my wheel chair, where I had been 'stored' so graciously by Puck and his football gang. I tried to rock my chair to see if I could get loose. Let me tell you, I didn't. The smell of the full toilet had been bad to start with; they had been sitting here in the sun all week, I mean, what do you expect? But now it was awful.

I tried to tell myself to take deep breaths in and out through my mouth, which cut down the smell, but then I started to panic. You know when you breathe in your mouth; you can kind of taste what you're trying not to smell? Well, try being in my place: a kid in a wheelchair, stuck in a fully used Rent-A-Loo.

I tried to think of my mom, and when she would make my favorite cookies; macadamias nut with white chocolate chips, and the way that the whole house would smell of them and just how good that smell was. Or when we would go for walks (well, she would walk, I was just learning how to push my wheelchair by myself) down by the little candy store in town and the aroma of vanilla fudge would fill the air for the whole block.

Relax, I told myself. Just think about good smells, and you will be fine...

"Please! Somebody help! Oh, god! Help!"

I couldn't take it anymore. My memories of other smells were demolished when I tried to breath.

Oh no. Oh dear god, no! I could hear voices coming back to the wall of toilets, and it sounded like the football team. Although sounds were muffled through the grey plastic door, I could tell they were laughing. One of them pushed on the door, and the whole bucket shook. Vicious peals of laughter echoed outside, and dread filled inside of me.

Two more voices approached, and one of them I recognized as Puck. I could tell he was telling someone what to do because he had that voice he used when yelling orders to the team. I could pick out certain words now; they were getting closer.

"We got...wheelchair kid...going to flip it."

Shit! They were going to flip me? do they know how bad that could be to someone like me? That wasn't even funny! Sure, I learned to deal with the occasional jest from kids in the hallways, but nothing seriously dangerous. Not to take into matter where all that waste would end up. Sometimes, people take things too far.

A second voice spoke out against Puck. This time I could hear him clearly.

"Isn't that kinda dangerous?"

Finn! My light in the dark long tunnel! He was coming to help me. The door opened, and I finally got a blast of fresh air. Finn stuck his head in the door and gasped; it really did smell bad.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you. My god, the smell." I couldn't say it enough. Air! Fresh, clean, beautiful, air!

As Finn turned me towards the football crew, we could see that some were angry and others just appalled. We. Me and Finn. He had saved me instead of going along with Puck's crazy plan. We were finally in the same side.

A voice broke through my epiphany yelling, "What the hell, dude? I can't believe your helping this loser?"

Puck was really angry by now. He had just lost the opportunity to crush some stupid kid by rolling him in a Honey Bucket. What a shame.

This was the tipping point for Finn. He had held in his opinion for a good length, but now he just let it all out. "Don't you get it, man? We're _all _losers; everyone in this school. Hell, everyone in this town. Out of all the kids who graduate, maybe half will go to college, and _two _will leave the state to do it. I'm not afraid of being called a loser 'cause I can except that that's what I am. But I am afraid of turning my back on something that made me happy for the first time in my sorry life."

Five minutes ago, if you had asked me the possibility of being pulled, instead of rolled, from the porta-potty, I would have said maybe one out of five chances. If you asked me who I would have preferred to save me, I would have said someone with authority so that Puck and his gang would be punished. But now, if you asked me, I would say that there is no one out there who I would have rather had pull me to freedom. Finn had finally recognized his talent, his voice, yes, but his ability to stand up for what is right and how to put someone who disrespects that back in their place. I had never really like Finn, he was passive in Glee, didn't want to be there, and hurt Rachel without knowing it. But now, I couldn't have respected him more.

"So, what. Are you quitting to join homo explosion?" Puck was a real idiot. As the rest of team laughed at what he had said, Finn just took it into stride. He didn't know what Finn was about to say. Hell neither did I, but I never would have expected what came out of his mouth.

"No. I'm doing both. 'Cause you can't win without me and neither can they."

As the whole team's mouths fell open, I took my finger, licked it, and put it to my butt to signal to the shocked looking Puck that he had been burned. Really burned.

Finn rolled my away from the row of toilets and back towards the football field. We went along in silence; I felt like there was nothing else to say.

Faintly, but growing stronger, was a song I had heard often as a kid. I seemed to remember it being written by Journey, but I couldn't recall the title for the life of me.

Out in the middle of the field was a man, a truck with a giant tank on the back, a woman, and a giant hose which green paint was spraying from. He appeared to be coloring the grass green.

_Street lights, people. Living just to find emotion. Hiding, somewhere in the night!_

Finn stopped my chair to watch the display on the field. The man was dancing along with the music, and pointing every count of the song. A crowd had gathered on the bleachers in the distance, but he seemed perfectly happy to stay here with me and watch.

It was then that I recalled the name. I always loved the title, for it gave me hope that someday I would be treated right. Treated like a real person. Like someone who could care.

The title, of course, was Don't Stop Believing.

And trust me, I never will.


End file.
